Page 35 of Second Chance

I laugh. “Is this like an adult version of sex ed? Are you about to tell me how the birds and the bees work because I already know those things. Two boys, remember?” Motherhood should make it obvious I’ve had sex before.

“Listen, smart-ass, I’m trying not to spell it out in graphic detail with charts and diagrams but take it from a guy who has been where you are…alone…you can’t have sex with just yourself.”

“Why are we having this conversation?” I exhale.

“Because Denton is back.”

If my brother Billy had smacked me upside the head, I’d be less confused.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“That man is still the boy who loved you.”

My mouth falls open. “He is not.” I sound like a teenager, whining and all. “He doesn’t even know me. We aren’t the kids we used to be.”

“Look, I’m not suggesting you need to fall in love again. Look at me.” He taps his chest with both hands and spreads his arms wide like he’s the master of greatness. “But you’re an adult, and so is he. I’m just saying, if something happens, it happens. You can give yourself permission.”

My lips twist. I hear what he’s saying, and I nod. I’m listening, but I don’t know if I’m where he suggests.

“Okay, enough about your sex life. Let’s talk Oktoberfest a second. If I find out that bitch running the bookstore is behind our not getting a permit for the party, I’m gonna have some head.”

First, I’d like to point out having head is my brother’s problem, but I don’t wish to open the book again on his sexual history. Second, Billy has it in for Roxanne McAllister for some reason. Maybe because she’s the only girl in town who hasn’t given him head. I don’t know, and I don’t want to know, but what I do know is she filed a noise complaint against us the first year she opened, and Billy hasn’t ever forgiven her for it. Our pub is on the corner of Main Street and Third, and BookEnds—her bookstore—is across Third to the side of us. The noise complaint was all a misunderstanding. Personally, I like her shop and I’d love to do a books and beer night, but Billy will have nothing to do with the idea.

“I don’t think she’s the issue. Besides, I thought we came up with a Plan C. The gravel lot.”

Billy swipes through his hair again. “Yeah, but it’s more behind the pub and people have to cross the alley. I just don’t understand the hold up. What’s Charlie’s worth if he can’t pull strings for us?” He’s being rhetorical. It isn’t up to our brother to give us the street permit. He works hard enough as it is to encourage tourism while trying to keep the locals happy.

“If that chick has cock blocked this event, I’m gonna—”

A knock raps at his open door and Billy pauses his thought. “Hey boss, there’s a girl here to see you,” the busboy announces. My brow rises in the direction of my brother. Always something. Or someone.

+ + +

Once I’m home, I start collecting ingredients to make cookies. The volleyball team has a bake sale planned for the next two days to help cut the cost of uniforms, tournaments, and travel. They won’t raise much, but it makes the girls feel like they “worked” toward something. I volunteered to make cookies to show support. I have nothing else to do, and Hollilyn offered to help me when she heard I made this commitment. She arrives with an apron that says, “Bun in the oven.”

“Cute, right? I got it at Pearl’s.” Pearl’s is a local tourist shop with all kinds of kitchen knickknacks and novelty tchotchkes. I laugh as I touch her belly. She’s been sensitive to people reaching out to rub her and I don’t blame her, but she’s allowed me. Maybe it’s the maternal connection. I’m the mother of the man who got her pregnant. Hollilyn had a different kind of upbringing. Small row houses line the other side of the train tracks, the ones putting Blue Ridge on the map originally. Her father was the town drunk. Her mother a floozy. It’s a wonder Hollilyn seems so good-natured, although a bit ditzy at times. She’s definitely grown on me.

As we start organizing what we plan to make—a monster cookie which includes oatmeal, peanut butter, and chocolate candies—Hollilyn pops the air with a question I had hoped wouldn’t get asked.

“So, how did the other night go?”

I stop measuring and set the cup down on the counter. “You know, I should be mad at you for letting him in here.”

“Why?” She looks up at me, and the innocence on her face proves she doesn’t believe that she did anything wrong.

“It’s just…it wasn’t an appropriate time.”

Hollilyn nods as if she understands, but then she shakes her head. “When would be an appropriate time?”

The question holds weight. I don’t know if I’d have let Denton in if he’d knocked on the door and I was the only one home. Then my sex pulses and I realize I’m kidding myself. If I had the foresight to know what we’d do, I’d have yanked the door off the hinges and tackled him to the hall floor. This is my mentality after my brother’s pep talk.

Give yourself permission.

Something niggles at my memory of the other night, though. It’s what Denton said: I’ll just be your coach. If he’s willing, he just might be the person I need. I’m comfortable enough with him because of our history and I don’t run any risk of connection because he’ll leave eventually. The thought saddens me, but I know the truth. Denton is here for his mother.

Caroline battles lung cancer—ironic as she never smoked—received secondhand from her husband, who had a nasty habit in private. Among other nastiness, the town was surprised she caught this of all diseases from her husband. For Denton and his mother’s sakes, I hope they can reconcile some issues before she passes. Once she does—and the inevitable is coming—Denton will leave. He has no reason to stay.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” I say as way of avoidance. My lack of dating isn’t something I want to discuss with my son’s pregnant girlfriend.